


Tahiti

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Arguing, Beach Sex, Camping, Co-workers, Coulson cutting loose, Drinking, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Flirting, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Island Living, Kissing, Making Out, Negotiations, Oral Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sailing, Secret Warriors - Freeform, Slow Dancing, Surfing, Swimming, Tahiti, Training, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-02-28 23:20:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2750936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 02x10.  Skye leaves SHIELD to go train with her father.  Coulson goes to get her back, and gets something more in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coulson finds Skye in Tahiti to make an offer.

"You know why I like it here?" she asked, staring at the dress shoes next to her on the sand. "No one's ever pissed off here."

"Tahiti. Cute."

She turned over on the blanket and squinted, peering up at him with her hand over her eyes.

"You should get out of that suit, you look like you could use some sun," she said sarcastically.

"That's not why I'm here," he said, turning to look over at the waves crashing quietly on the beach, his eyes hidden by the aviators.

"But, that's why _I'm_ here," she said, standing up and dusting the sand off of her legs where it stuck.

" _Skye_ ," he said after a moment, smiling at her.

"Coulson," she replied. He went to speak again and she raised a finger. "I've got two requirements if we're going to talk shop."

"Terms?" he asked, looking her over. Her hot pink string bikini with the little green palm trees all over it.

"Yup."

"Okay," he said with a shrug, waiting, starting to perspire.

"First, you can't wear that suit," she said. "I'm serious," she went on when he set his jaw. "Second, you have to be drinking a pina colada."

"No, those are terrible," he said, crossing his arms.

"Fine, a beer then," she said.

"And if I do this, you'll hear me out?" he said a moment later, after considering it.

"Yeah," she said, nodding at him.

He leaned to the side and looked behind her at the surfboard poking up out of the sand. The design on it had the words "Good Vibrations" painted across the top. He couldn't help but smile.

"You surf?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows a little.

"I'm working on it," she said, with a sigh. " _You?_ "

"Been known to."

"Then let's add that to the list. Grab a surfboard while you're at it, and don't forget the sunscreen, you look like this is the first time you've stepped out of that base in _ages_."

He rolled his eyes and then turned to plod through the sand back towards the road.

"Hey!" she yelled, looking at Lola parked on the side of the road. "Is that Lola?!"

"Yeah," he said, swivelling towards her, his voice carrying back.

She put her hands on her hips and looked around the empty beach.

"Wait up!" she said, as he turned away again.

Grabbing the towel and yanking the surfboard free, she jogged back up the beach towards him to the rented minibus parked next to Lola. She strapped on her surfboard and unlocked the van, yanking out a dress and throwing it on over the swimsuit.

"Okay," she said, pulling a lip gloss out of her backpack and sliding some on. "Let's go."

"Hold on," he said with a smirk. "You wouldn't come for me, but you will for Lola?"

"Oh, _yeah_ ," Skye said, running her hand over Lola's hood. "I've totally missed her."

Coulson huffed at her then opened the passenger door to let her slide in.

"Wow, she looks like new!" she said excitedly, touching the leather. "Mack?"

"Yeah," he said, closing the door, he stood there for a moment, just staring at her before he walked around to the driver's side. "I felt like I ought to, after locking him in the temple and everything."

Skye started digging through her bag. "Forgot my glasses," she said, rifling.

"Here," he said, sitting down and handing his over. "Use mine."

She took the glasses from him with a smile and slid them over her face.

"Where to first?" he asked.

"Home."

***

They pulled up to the small shanty and Skye took a deep breath.

"Look, let me go in first, talk to him," she began, then a thought hit her. "You didn't try here first, did you?"

"No," he said, shaking his head.

"Okay," she said, releasing a breath. " _Good._ "

She opened the door and went to the hut. "Dad?" she asked, disappearing inside.

After a moment she came out and said, "You can come in, he's gone."

Coulson got out of Lola and followed her back inside as she went through a few things and looking around.

"Car keys are gone, I bet he bolted," she said with an annoyed sigh.

"Things have improved, I see," he said, looking around the messy looking single room with its small kitchen stove and a couple of unmade beds spaced opposite one another.

"You're probably staying at some overpriced resort, aren't you?" she said, eyeing him dubiously.

"I wasn't talking about that," he said, a little peeved. "I mean between you and your father."

"How'd you figure that?" she asked.

"You're sleeping under the same roof. It sounds like he's still alive," he teased as she slapped him on the arm.

" _Coulson._ "

"Is he coming back?" he asked. "I really wasn't planning on him being part of our discussions. And also, I don't think he likes me."

"The Whitehall thing is kind of stuck on replay for him. But, he's working on it."

"Good."

"Now," she said, looking him over again. "We should figure out how we're going to get you out of that suit."

"I've got another change of clothes back at my moderately priced hotel," he said with a smirk. "I was hoping for an opportunity to ply you with expensive food and alcohol."

"Or, we could just stay here? We can get some fish from the market and I've got some _really_ cheap rum," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Skye, I came to take you back with me," he said suddenly.

"I know what you came for, Coulson," she said with a smile. "I'm just curious to see what you thought you were going to find once you got here."

"You look well," he said, putting his hands in his pockets, his eyes looking over her tanned face.

"So, how long do we have?" she asked, tossing her bag on a chair. "This, negotiation period?"

"24 hours," he answered immediately. "Then, I'm needed back at the Playground."

"SHIELD business," she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Yes."

"Did May set a time limit?"

Coulson narrowed his eyes.

"Wanted to make sure you didn't get too...carried away?" she asked, as he stared back at her silently.

"I missed you," he said, stepping towards her, as she put a hand out against his chest, stopping him.

"We haven't started negotiations yet."


	2. The Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coulson puts a proposal on the table.

"I'm gonna need you to ditch that 24-hour rule," she said.

"Can't," he said, shaking his head. "Sorry."

"It might impact your negotiations," she said, as he stood in the checkout line at the Surf Shop, holding onto a t-shirt and a pair of trunks and some leather sandals.

"This is already getting way out of hand," he said, raising his eyebrows. He looked away from her to the sunglass rack. "And go get a pair of glasses so you're not using mine."

She tilted her head at him in a mocking expression and then turned away to walk towards the sunglasses, trying them on one after another and looking in the mirror while he stepped up to the counter.

"Skye?" he said, sounding a little exasperated.

Settling on a pair she grabbed them and placed them on the counter.

"You renting or buying?" the clerk asked Coulson.

"You mean the board?" he asked. "Definitely renting."

"Should buy one," she said, leaning against the counter. "You might decide to stay for awhile."

He frowned and looked away from her back at the clerk.

"Renting," he repeated.

***

After they had strapped his board to her van, they went back to the hut and left Lola parked beside it as Coulson changed and then crawled into the van with her.

She drove back to her usual spot and they parked, got the boards and towels and headed down towards the sand.

"Waves are starting to pick up," she said, looking out.

Tossing down the towels she pulled the dress off over her head and picked up her board, walking towards the water.

"See you there."

He shoved his board into the sand and watched her go, trying to carefully think this all over. He emptied his pockets onto the beach towel and then lost his shoes and hesitated for a moment before pulling the t-shirt over his head.

When he began paddling out towards her, he got past the waves and finally lifted himself up onto the board and turned towards her.

"Now," he began.

As expected, she was staring at his scar.

"Sorry," she said. "I've just never seen it."

"It's hard to not see," he said, trying to brush the comment away.

She moved in closer to him with a few strokes of her hands in the water.

"Does it hurt?" she asked, looking at it more closely.

"Sometimes," he said, taking a deep breath and breathing it out slowly.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking achingly sad for a moment.

"Thanks," he said, smiling at her. "It kind of looks like someone put me through a meat grinder."

"Are you self-conscious about it?" she asked. "That's like, you being a superhero, Coulson. You're awesome."

"Kinda gross," he said, looking at her dubiously.

"Nothing about you could ever be gross," she said. "I'm going to cheat."

Suddenly there was a rolling motion and a wave began behind them.

"Ready?" she said, paddling quickly.

"No, not really," he said suddenly. Instead of trying to keep up, he watched her go. She managed to get to her feet and ride the small wave back to the shore.

She unhooked her line from her wrist so she could go back to where their towels were and returned with something in her hand, he couldn't quite make it out.

He waited, looking around, beneath the water, seeing what was around them. Splashing some water on hair and face.

Finally she reached him again and handed him the sunscreen bottle.

"You forgot that," she said. "You're already looking pink." She pressed her finger into his shoulder and noticed the change in color.

"Thanks," he said, opening the tube. "Did you make that wave? You know, with your...?"

"Yeah," she said, a little proudly. "C'mon, let me help you with that."

He nodded and handed the bottle to her and closed his eyes as she rubbed him over.

"It's nice here," he said, lowering his head so she could get behind his neck. "I can see why you like it."

"Then you should stay a little longer, "she said. "How about 48-hours?"

"Are we negotiating now?" he asked, smiling over at her as he took the bottle from her and rubbed lotion on the tops of his thighs.

"Sure."

"Okay," he said, rubbing the lotion on his chin. "I'll take another wave, then. And think about it."

She grinned as he closed the bottle and tucked it in the waistband of his pants before beginning to paddle towards shore, carried forward on the swell coming up behind him.

***

"So, you feel better about your gift now?" he asked her.

She had given up on the idea of making lunch and let him take her to a small spot in town.

"More confident I can control it, yes," she said, taking a bite of her poisson cru. "You had this stuff before?" she asked. "I love it."

"But there's more work to be done," he said, lifting his beer and wiping away the condensation.

"There's always going to be more," she said. "You know that, Mr. Director."

He sighed at her. "Your initial concerns, and why you left," he said, in a tone that make it clear he wanted a straight answer.

"Yes, I am safe," she replied curtly.

"That's all I wanted to know," he said, sitting back in his seat and sipping on his beer.

"Do you feel safe...with me?" she asked him suddenly, taking a sip of her rum and lime.

"I have it under control," he said, putting his bottle down and staring back at her. "More work to be done, though."

"Huh," she said, "Who makes sure you don't get wound too tight back at the base these days?"

"Hunter's made a few attempts, with limited success. Mostly tries to get me drunk and talking."

"I see," she said, peering back at him. "Do you have a proposal?"

"Welcome Wagon," he said. "You understand what we're dealing with, you're best prepared to make assessments and recommendations given your past work with the Rising Tide and also your more recent experiences. You can run it independently, report to me directly."

"Sounds great," she said, crossing her hands in front of her. "What's the catch? The part I'm not gonna like."

"You help me build teams. Some of them will be off the books. There are some forces in play, we need to be ready."

"You're talking about people's lives here," she said. "Is this volunteer work, or what?"

"Some, yes. Some are Fridge players. It's their second shot, the ones that will take it, make it."

"What about the ones that don't?" she asked.

"They'll stay in lockdown."

"Why me? Why not May or someone else who doesn't have a problem running black ops?"

"Your experience with your father, I believe, will give you more insight."

"You mean because he's a murderer," she said, looking away from him.

"I mean, because he made big mistakes and you gave him a second chance. You're working _with_ him. He's trying make things right, isn't he?"

"Yeah," she said, looking back at him. He reached out across the table and put his hand on her arm.

"There are other Obelisks, Skye. There are other people like you. There will be more. Lots more.  We want them on our side."

"Oh, wow," she said, pulling her hand away and standing.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I have to think," she said, walking away.

He stood up following after her. "Hey, let's talk about this."

"You'd better ask May for your 48-hours," she said, stopping.

"You're going to need it."


	3. Counter Offer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lines between negotiation and attraction start to get blurred.

"They always play this song for the tourists," she said, noting the sound floating over the speaker system.

"I'm a tourist," he replied.

They had met in the afternoon, at his hotel. Sitting outdoors while the fans turned overhead in the covered breezeway.  It wasn't really that modest.

"It's called Sleepwalk," she said.

"I know," he said, standing. "I have a record of it back at the base."

He held out his hand to her. She eyed him from her seat, wearing the linen shirt and slacks, he looked the part.

"Is this part of the negotiation?" she asked.

"Maybe," he answered.

She finally gave in, standing and slipping her hand into his as his other settled on her waist. "You're wearing dresses again."

"You noticed," she said.

"Hard not to."

"Co-Director," she said, leaning her face against his.

"That's your counter proposal?" he said, surprised at her boldness, turning her with a step. "What do you know here that I don't?"

"I know you need me or you wouldn't be here," she answered. "That it's very unlikely you'll find someone else with my particular skillset and experience."

"You might be surprised," he replied, a little cocky.

"That also _likes_ you."

"That was mean," he said, teasingly, pulling back a little to look at her face.

"And understands your needs," she continued. "There isn't anyone else like me. For you."

"Are we still talking about the job?"

"Is there really any difference at this point?"

He sighed and then turned her again, resting his forhead against hers.

"Are you going to make the same mistakes Fury made, Coulson? Because you don't seem to like accountability very much, either."

That made him stop. He let go of her hand and stood there, his head tilted at her slightly to make sure he was understanding her tone.

"You don't need to know everything, Skye," he said carefully. "There are things, in fact, I'm pretty sure you don't want to know."

"This isn't one of them, I can assure you," she said, crossing her arms. "If there are 'other forces in play', I want to know about them. You know with my abilities to recognize patterns, I can..."

"No, I can't give you that," said, cutting her off. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not putting people's lives on the line, without knowing what I'm sending them into," she said, shrugging, and raising her hands at him. "You weren't in there when I changed. You didn't see what happened to Trip."

His face softened slightly. "I know. I never wanted you to go into that city. If there was anything I could've done..."

"Guess what? You can't protect me, Coulson. You couldn't stop what happened in the temple. I don't want that to happen to anyone else. You're right, I am the best person for this job. And if it's mine, you have to let me all the way in. That's always been the deal."

"We don't see everything eye-to-eye, Skye," he said. "It's going to make it difficult for us."

"I know."

He slumped back down into the chair, and looked towards the other people vacationing, walking on the beach, going about their lives.

"I'm afraid of setting you on this path."

"Then stand beside me instead," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder.

***

"I've never really understood the purpose of just laying in the sun," he said, laying in the sun on his stomach.

They were back to her favorite spot, sitting on the empty beach listening to the tide go in and out.

"You mean besides quiet and relaxation?"

"We should at least be getting a massage," he said sleepy-sounding.

"Feel free to get to work," she said, peering at him with one eye, the side of her face pressed against the towel.

"And this isn't really feeling like a negotiation," he said, frustration creeping into his voice.

"Because you haven't thought about my counter offer hard enough," she said. He could hear the smile in her voice.

"Co-Director. That sounds more like marriage than a counter offer," he said, turning over onto his back. He reached over to pick up his sunglasses and slid them onto his face.

"Getting cold feet, Mr. Director?" she asked, turning onto her side.

"I've never been great at co-anything, pretty much _ever_ ," he said, emphasizing the last part. "It's got me thinking."

"We work pretty well together, if I recall," she said, sliding her hand over the muscles of his arm. "It's just when we get off the same page that things seem to...fall apart."

"Is this part of the negotiation?" he asked her, raising an eyebrow.

She didn't answer, but he didn't need one. The way she was looking at him was enough.

He rolled over her, pinning her under him with his arms, straddling her waist.

"Part of the negotiation?" she smiled.  
  
"Counter offer," he said, holding her chin in one of his hands before he tipped her mouth up and lowered his to kiss her.

He watched her eyes open as their lips parted, her fingers finding his face to run them along his jawline. "Your eyes," she said, taking off his sunglasses.

"What?" he said.

"I missed them."

He pressed his mouth back to hers, letting a little of the desperation he'd been feeling these past months without her loose, holding her face in his hands as he kissed her.

Her leg snaked between his and she used the leverage to flip them over, his back landing on the hot sand with her on top of him.

It made him wince a little.

"Sorry," she said. "No deal. Together, or not at all."

"Not sure it's my choice to give that up. Fury made me Director," he said, getting serious for a moment.

"Allow me to show you what Fury _didn't_ give you," she said, kissing him again, opening his mouth up under hers as he groaned and clapped his hands against her thighs, pressing her hips down into his.

She kissed him slowly as her fingers went ahead of her, touching the scar on his chest, then over his stomach, and beneath the waistband of his swim trunks.

He moaned into her mouth and pressed himself, already hard, up against her hand.

"You have a point," he said, trying to catch his breath. "Don't stop."

"That wasn't my point," she said, smiling, and began kissing a trail down his neck and over his scar, down past his stomach.


	4. Punctuation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye and Coulson's negotiations are interrupted by her father.

They're back at her hut, standing in the outdoor shower at the back of the house together.

Although they'd spent most of the afternoon fooling around at the beach, she's tempting it again by stripping away his swim shorts while they make out under the trail of water from the showerhead.

This is all so new. This was why he'd been told a strict 24-hour limit, but, he doesn't really want to hear May's voice in his head right now.

Skye got her way. She got her 48-hours and a whole lot more. And dammit, it was worth it.

He didn't think she wanted him like this. He knew there was something between them, something extraordinary, but their silent agreement, the lack of desire to classify it, even with all of the things stirred up by her father appearing, had just pushed it to the forefront.

The way she had hugged him before he left for San Juan that day.

The way she wouldn't touch him at all when she left.

He'd told himself he failed her, that he'd pushed her too hard. She must hate him.

Only to find her here, still fond of him, wanting him to stay.

He chases her mouth when she pulls away from him, teasing him, making him go after her, and he grabs her, touching her wet hair, forcing her mouth hard against his.

She's all mouth and hands, and he thinks, if he's going to die, he wants it to be like this, with her. He tilts his head back so she can leave a trail of tiny bites along his neck.

"He's _still_ here?"

Coulson jumps. This _isn't_ how he wants to die. Instant recall at his voice. Angry. Controlled. It reminds him of Banner, before he was allowed in public places.

"Dad."

Skye says it like a command, and shuts the shower off, turning towards her father. He's standing near the corner of the house. She has her back to Coulson, positioning herself between them. Coulson thinks about their conversation earlier today.

He's feeling pretty good about agreeing with her.

"He's just hanging around," Cal says, like he's put out. "Doesn't he have a place to stay?" he asks, gesturing towards her.

"I do actually," Coulson says, speaking up.

"I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to Daisy!" he yells, his hands balling into fists.

" _Skye_ ," Coulson says, defiantly.

Cal's face goes mean. Then, he suddenly relaxes. "Why don't we continue this conversation when you have pants?" he says, turning away and heading back the way he came.

When he's gone, Skye turns back to him and kisses him apologetically as he pulls up his swim trunks and takes his t-shirt from her hand.

"I know," she says. "I'm sorry."

They walk into the hut together to see Cal at the stove scraping at a pan, the smell of food floating in the air.

Coulson wants to relax, he really does. It smells like coconut and onion and maybe curry. And he is hungry. They forgot to eat because they were busy doing other things.

"Catching the Director of SHIELD with his pants down," Cal said, turning towards them both. "You have to admit, that's pretty good!"

Coulson grimaces, but also he's glad Skye's father is _maybe_ in a slightly better mood? He glances over at Skye, not sure what to make of it.

"Dad, don't be rude," Skye answers flatly.

"Hungry?" Cal asks, holding up the pan.

"Yes," Coulson says, looking at Skye then nodding at him.

"Then let's eat," Cal says, as Skye gets some plates and puts them down on the table.

Coulson watches as he carefully portions out the food and then dumps the pan into the sink. He slides open a drawer and pulls out some silverware and theatrically places them in their order at the table.

"Just a nice family dinner," he says, sitting down.

They all begin to eat in awkward silence.

"Coulson's here because...," Skye begins.

"He's SHIELD," Cal interrupts her.

"We've talked about this," Skye says, patiently. "HYDRA. SHIELD. They're different."

"Maybe you can just think of me as Phil Coulson?" he tries to offer helpfully.

"And what is Phil Coulson like?" Cal asks, grasping his fork tightly.

"He collects things," Skye says, thinking quickly.

"Like people?" Cal says, with sarcastic laughter.

"No." Coulson stares back at him, reminded of all the reasons why he doesn't like this man.

"Memorabilia," Skye says cheerfully. "Like Captain America stuff."

"He sounds like a simpleton," Cal chuckles, standing up and pouring himself some tea. "Would you like some, Phil?"

"This is going well I think I should go," Coulson says, standing.

"Excellent idea!"

"No," Skye says, "We can talk about this." She motions Coulson back down in his seat with her hand. "Dad I'm going back to SHIELD."

"Because of him," Cal replies.

"No, because it's what I want," she says, putting both hands down on the table in front of her. She's staring him down.

"You should've seen what she put me through earlier," Coulson said. "She's definitely getting the better end of the deal."

"I can still see her?" Cal asks, his eyes flickering over to Coulson.

"Yes, we'll stay in touch," Skye says, "Why are you asking him?"

"You're in love with him," Cal says, like it's the most obvious thing.

Skye looks irritated and exasperated at the same time.

"I'm sorry, I can tell. You'll do whatever he wants."

"Noooo she won't," Coulson jumped in with a chuckle. "Skye does what she wants."

She spun around over her shoulder to look at him. "That's not true, I defer to you."

"On occasion," he said with a shrug.

"Okay, then," her father said standing and taking his plate with him.

"So, you don't object?" Skye asked, puzzled.

"Oh," he said, with a smile. "Of course I do."

"Because I'm older," Coulson said.

"Not exactly," he replies. "See, Daisy's mother was a century older than me. Can't help who you fall for!"

He turned his back on them and put his plate in the sink as Skye and Coulson exchanged looks.

"What then?" Skye asked, hesitant.

"I just think he's an idiot," he said to Skye, turning back to her and taking her plate.


	5. Dispositional Affects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye and Coulson fight.

“How did your father take it?” he asked, as they dragged the va’a towards the shoreline. It was just the beginning of the day.  The sun had barely begun to come up.

“He’s still afraid he’ll lose me again.”

“It takes awhile to build that trust,” he said, dropping his side as they reached the water.

She could sense something had settled over him since yesterday.  Seeing her father, the things he’d said.

“So, this teambuilding exercise,” she began, tossing her bag into the canoe.  “This will put us way past the 48-hour mark.”

“Just you and me. Relying on each other.  I’m curious,” he said, looking up at her with a smirk. “Not getting cold feet, are you Director?”

He tossed his own bag into the canoe.

"No, but this is _really_ roughing it, for you.  No thousand threadcount sheets out there.  Just sand and surf."

"You keep underestimating me," he said, sitting the hat on his head. "Are you nervous?"

" _Maybe._ "

It only took them a few moments to push out past the waves and then they hopped in, heading out along the coastline towards Mo’ora and then raising the sail.

***

"You're getting impatient."

"Yes, there is some impatience involved," he answered, throwing down the spear gun and sitting in his fins on the sand.

"The fish are just too clever for us," she replied, as she set her gear down, took off her fins and came to sit next to him.  "This was your idea, though."

"We still have coconuts as a fallback," he reassured her, squinting out towards the water.

"How far do you want to take this?" she asked, then leaned away slightly when he gave her a look. "You're tired, we've been going all day."

"Is that your subtle way of pointing out my age?" he said, drawing shapes in the sand with his finger.

"No, I'm getting hungry. And _I'm_ tired," she said, beginning to sound frustrated. "Look, there's _probably_  a food truck a few miles in. Let's just crack open a coconut and enjoy the moment."

"You know there's a food truck there," he accused, narrowing his eyes.

"I had a contingency," she admitted, standing up. He muttered to himself as he took the fins off.  "What?!" she said. "You _always_ have contingencies."

"This was about us completely trusting one another," he said, standing up.

"No, this _should be_ about letting us just be who we are and not making it some kind of test! I've already passed your tests, Coulson!  With flying colors!  We've been living with each other for almost two years!"

"You're right," he admitted, slowly nodding, as it sunk in. "I've been keeping you at arm's length all this time."

"And whenever we start to get close, you pull back.  I don't really know what to do with that."

" _You_ pulled back this time," he said, pointing his finger at her. " _You left!_   I went down there after you, I wasn't going to leave you to face that alone, no matter what."

"Then you resent me for going away, is that it?" she said, crossing her arms.

"No," he said, shaking his head at her. " _No_. I resent myself for being so much in love with you, that I can't let you walk away. Even when it's probably what's best for you. I'm such an idiot."

"A sexy idiot," she said, shifting her weight to one hip.

"You're really quick to forgive, but you shouldn't be," he warned.  "SHIELD can survive without you."

"Would that make it better," she asked, starting to tear up and looking away. "For you?" 

"I didn't say it would make it better.  Just that it would survive," he said, frowning.

 "Can we just go get something to eat?" she said, flatly, walking past him towards their little camp.

***

They followed the dirt road that would take them into town.

"You're sure this is the right path?" he asked.

"Yup," she replied.

He was just trying to break the silence, anyway.  Make small talk.  He was always thinking, even when he was quiet. Trying to work things out in his mind.  Maybe he was capable of long silences, but she wasn't sure his mind was.

He didn't really like computers, either.  Or agree with some of her more radical ideas.  This whole thing might just be better off left alone.  She was enjoying this break, despite the frustration of having to learn to use her gift. And dealing with her mentally unstable father.

Maybe he was right.  What if she didn't need this anymore?

"All I really wanted, was to know you were willing to meet me halfway," she said.

Taking a breath, he looked over at her as they continued walking.

"I'm tired of having other people decide for me what direction I should go in.  I've had enough of that to last me a lifetime."

He waited until there was a lengthy enough pause before he answered. "I meant everything I said, Skye. I've put it all in writing."

"What if the others don't want to go along with it?" she asked.

"That's a possibility, and we'll deal with it just like anything else. But I've been thinking about what you said that first day."

Of course he was.  That's all he'd been doing.  Thinking.

"When I prioritize you, things go right. For SHIELD. And for me. You've already helped me make some really good calls. I feel good about that. My only question is: will it be enough for you?"

The corner of her mouth pulled up a little.  This is where she was going to get stuck.  It was like he was able to read her mind.

"It scares me," she said. "I know you have my back, Phi..."

She stopped herself short. He smiled at her.

"It's fine," he said, touching her arm as they stopped walking.

"I've been calling you Phil in my head for the last couple of days," she explained. "It's like my brain had to recategorize you after we... _enthusiastically_ violated SHIELD protocol on the beach all afternoon."

"It's not really a protocol," he said. "More like a suggestion."

 "It kind of _is_ a protocol," she said. "I helped rewrite the manual, and I would be reporting directly to you, and..."

He leaned forward and kissed her in mid-sentence.

"We'd report to each other, it cancels it out," he said, caressing her face.

"C'mon, we need to get back before dark."

 


	6. Closing the Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex on the beach.

"You haven't shaved for days," she said, curling her fingers and rubbing them against the stubble on his chin.

"You know, I really like you.  Always have."

She laughed at him. "Is this what happens when we strip away all your armor? No tie, no suit, all that's left is a hopeless romantic."

"Not exactly hopeless," he said, smiling. "I don't want to go back, really. Not yet.  When I get this much distance from it...," he said, tossing another piece of kindling into the fire.

"Let me guess," she said. "You make sure you don't get too far from it?"

"I've flirted with it in the past," he said.  "Didn't work out."

He watched the wood crackle and burn sending sparks up into the night sky.

" _This_ is tempting. Out here, it feels like we're the only people in the world."

"Don't forget the food truck guy, because, he pretty much saved our lives tonight."

"And the food truck guy," he chuckled.

"I know you've been lonely," she said rubbing her hand along his forearm as she leaned up against him.

The moon overhead was bright enough that they could see the waves coming in and out.

"I gave up on the idea of having that," he said. "Chose SHIELD instead."

He took her hand in his, laced their fingers together.

"Now I'm actually starting to wonder if I'm closer to it than I ever have been."

"It's funny what can happen when you get outside of your head," she said, turning her face to his. "And take a look around you."

She pressed her mouth against his, and held there, as he slowly kissed back.

His hand cupped her cheek, thumb grazing the line of her jaw, as he leaned against her and deepened the kiss. Her arm traveled across his shoulder to balance against him while she moved to sit across his lap.  

Kissing him felt like a natural extension of what they already were together, but with a power, a chemistry in it, that pulled at everything inside of her.  

Fingers softly moving up and down her thighs, he took in her sigh, the feeling of her hair brush over his shoulders. She put her hands on them again and pushed him backwards, until he was laid out against the blanket, watching the fire's light play across his face.

Untying the top of her bikini, she let him draw his hands under the fabric, gently squeezing her breasts.  She put her hands over his and sighed.

"This is nice," she said, stretching her hands up over her head, and through her hair, rocking her hips against him.  Fingers tracing down over her waist, following its curve, he stopped to touch the scars, above her bikini where Quinn had shot her.

"It connects us," he said, pressing the pads of his fingers against them. "Our scars."

"Our blood," she said, laying over him, pressing her bare chest against his, her head tucked under his chin as he slowly rubbed her back. "Have you ever thought about that?"

"Yes," he said, looking up at the night sky. "That we're the same."

They laid there together for a moment, listening to the comforting sounds of the fire crackle and the waves.

"Have _you_ ever touched one of those Diviners?" she asked.

"No," he said, smiling a little, pulling back to decipher her expression.

" _Are_ you curious?" she asked, sounding serious for a moment.  Too serious, her eyebrows were knotting together.

"I'm _very curious_ ," he replied, pushing back her bangs to kiss her forehead, as his hand caressed her body, down to her hip, landing on the string of her bikini bottoms.  "So, _so_ , curious."

"You'd probably end up with a tail," she said with a smirk, relaxing, as he pulled, then went for the string on the other side.

"Would I?" he asked, cocky, grabbing her waist and then flipping her over onto the blanket.

"Is this your way of changing the subject?" she asked, as he bent down to kiss her neck.

"Not at all," he said, rubbing his chin along her shoulder, tickling her. "Any other useful features? Do tell."

"Horns," she said, as she felt his teeth against the spot where her shoulder and neck met.

"Now you're just setting yourself up," he replied with a tilt of his head, raising to slide his swim trunks off.

"Looks that way," she said, eyeing him with a happy grin, then pulling him down to her hungry kiss.

He hitched her thighs up around his waist, then let his hand wander down between them, fingers pressing into her, his mouth hovering over hers as her breathing became more and more rushed.

Her head tipped back as he held her. He looked so satisfied, like he already knew exactly what would bring her right to the edge.

She decided she wanted to wipe that look off his face.

She wanted him there _with_ her.  

Stroking him, distracting his own movements, he started following her, his chest taking in shorter and shorter breaths as she worked his cock.  He grabbed her hand and wove his fingers between hers, holding her hand against the blanket as he slowly sunk himself inside of her. 

When they met completely, the impulse of it retreated, like it was taken away in a vacuum.  They were left staring at each other, in this still and quiet place. Vulnerable and aware of what they were doing.

"What are you going to do to with me, Skye?" he asked, his eyes searching hers.

"I'm going to love you, Phil," she said resolutely, leaning up to kiss him sweetly.

He began to move against her, the gravity of it pulling at them both. He'd let go of his rules about all of this, she could see it in his face.  Who he was beneath.  

She couldn't take her eyes away from his.  The way he was looking at her as he gave himself to her over and over again.

He needed her.

And his need matched hers.


	7. Quid Pro Quo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Established in their roles, they have office sex.

"We're not doing this right now, Director. My op. My rules."

Their eyes met and he came around the desk and to stand toe-to-toe with her.

"What happened to accountability?"

"You have yet to give me a good reason," she said, crossing her arms. "What is it? A bad feeling? Your burrito not settle well?"

"This is not going to turn funny, Skye. That last mission blew up in your face. You know the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing..."

"Yes, Phil, I know," she said. "The last time wasn't about our methodology, it was putting my trust in a member of my team who wasn't ready."

"You were pretty hard on him."

"I just didn't want him to die. You know what that's like."

"Yeah, I do," he said. "Consistently."

"You've given me a bunch of kids that belong in juvie and some adults that should probably still be in juvie, and you want the op to run like clockwork? Welcome to the real world. These are not seasoned agents."

"I know," he said. "Maybe we need more time to develop it?"

"We don't have the luxury of that. Aliens? Ultron? SHIELD agents up against psychotic robots? And don't get me started on how scary it is Stark let that whole thing happen right under his nose."

"I wanted to be able to trust them," he said, voice full of so much disappointment.

"Rogers is still good. He's up to something. We should keep an eye on him and reach out when it makes sense."

"Agreed," he said. "Oh, Fury contacted me."

"Does he want his old job back?" she said with a laugh.

"Mine? Or yours?"

"Yours of course," she said, taking off the armbands and laying them on the table.

Coulson chuckled at her, in spite of himself.  He watched her take her field suit apart and put it in the case they kept in the office.  It was the one Fitz had designed to help her control her powers.

"Just reassure me that this op isn't going to go like the last one," he said, leaning over her as she closed the case. "You were a wreck for two weeks."

"I know," she said, looking him over and then walking to him and sliding her hands over his shoulders. "You felt very neglected, I think."

"I _was_ very neglected," he said, his hands settling on her hips.

"This one's going to go almost perfectly, until one of them does something idiotic like toss their chewing gum towards a lazer grid and set the alarms off."

"That hasn't actually happened, right?" he said, wincing.

"I've had nightmares about it.  What, you don't read my field reports?" she asked, leaning forward to kiss him lightly.

"I'm just behind on my reading," he said, smiling at the gesture.

"What does Fury want, anyway?" she asked, starting to turn away from him.

He grabbed her by the belt of her suit and pulled her back to him. "To take us out for dinner. Catch up."

"Does Fury know that we tango?" she asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"I told him we cha-cha," he answered, smirking at her. "Fury always knows."

She huffed at him. "He's an old friend of yours.  If we're going out to dinner, I don't want to have to do the 'we just work together' thing.  It's been awhile, you know."

He kissed her, letting it quickly turn very messy and hot. "Let's make a night out of it.  Stay in a nice hotel," he said, before attacking her mouth again.

"We shouldn't do this here," she said, then kissed him again.  "Someone could walk in on their Directors making out."

"That's what you said the last time we did this," he replied, moving to her neck.

"I know," she said, starting to unbutton his jacket. "Who ever thought I'd be the professional one?"

"It's off hours," he said.  "I wouldn't mind a little privacy, though."

He walked to the door and shut it, turning the lock.  "Better?" he asked raising his eyebrows.

"I'd like it more without the jacket and tie," she said, leaning her arms back against the table.

Slowly undoing his tie, dragging his finger down the knot, he tossed it away onto the desk, then slipped his jacket off in the same slow manner.

"Mmm," she said.  "Maybe lose the shirt, too."

"You first," he answered in amusement, starting to undo the buttons on his cuffs.

"I thought that was your favorite part?" she asked, starting to pull at the zipper on the front of her suit.

"You're right, it is," he said, walking back over to kiss her quickly and lifting her to sit her on the table, sliding her forward so she was positioned against him.

Pulling at the zipper, he slid the suit away from her, stopping to kiss her bare shoulders.  Then a little further, stopping to do the same at the sight of her breasts.

"Can't wait till you get to my knees," she laughed.

"Impatient," he said, sliding the zipper down to her belt, which he slipped away and tossed on the floor.

"I just know what's coming," she said.

"You," he said, yanking her pants down, going for the easy joke.  He pulled up a chair then ran his tongue over the top of her knee, down the inside of her thigh before sitting in the chair.  He brought her knees over his shoulders, pulling her thighs apart.

"Please?" she said, running her fingers through his hair. Groaning and arching her hips, when he hummed against her, he flatted his tongue against her and then pressed his way inside, making circles with his thumb over her clit.  As she got more vocal, and began rocking against him, he pushed his fingers into her and curled them until he found her spot, and with a few rapid movements of his tongue she was shivering above him.

He stood up from the chair, leaning over to kiss her as she bit his lower lip, tugging on it.

"Chair," she said, letting him go and pushing back on his shirt and sliding off the desk. She leaned her hand against his shoulder to finish tossing away her shoes and uniform. "Why do I always end up naked?" 

"You're much more attractive," he shrugged, as she got down on her knees in front of him, slowly undoing his belt.

She put her hand over the front of his pants and felt him hard beneath the fabric.  Smiling sweetly up at him, she ran her hand over the length as the chair shook with tiny vibrations.

"Hey," he said.  "I don't mind it fast, but not _that_ fast."

"You might set a record tonight," she said, leaning forward to run her tongue along his shaft.

" _Skye_." His hands gripped the arm wrests and he lifted his hips up towards her, watching his cock disappear into her mouth.

"Take your shirt off," she said, pausing for a moment, enjoying herself rolling her tongue around his tip, as he groaned, pulling his undershirt, up over his head, then relaxing back into the chair. She twisted her hand around him, getting to her feet, putting her knee up in the chair.

He stood up out of the chair, running his hand up along her thigh, then he stepped to the side and came up behind her, his hands cupping her rear to push her forward into the seat of the chair.  His mouth kissed along her shoulder, then stopped to suck at her neck as he sunk into her, slipping into her easily as she pushed back to meet him.

Bracing her hands against the back of the chair, she arched her back as he moved against her in slow, deliberate thrusts, holding onto her hips to ground him.  She leaned back into him, turning her head to kiss him, and his hands went to the top of the chair with hers and he used the leverage thrust more forcefully, as his and her breathing got sharper.

"Come for me again," he said, as she pulled his head down towards her in reply, her other slipping between her legs and he rolled his hips into her, and with a few deep thrusts he was coming with her, hearing her call his name.

Falling forward over the back of the chair, she felt him press kisses down her back.

"I needed that," she said, turning back to look at him.

He raised his eyebrows, smiling, trying to catch his breath and stand.  

"I...am ready for bed," he said, grabbing his shirt from its landing spot, and pulling it on. 

She stood up from the chair, and looked him over, pressing her lips against his chin and then his mouth.

"Is that an order, sir?"

" _Yes_ , love."


End file.
